The White Dragon - The Wall Part two. (Patreon)

Aemon Targaryen, Castle Black – the Wall.

“OH YES, AEMON! MORE! I… AHHHHG!” Ygritte moaned, completely out of her mind, her face displaying the immense pleasure she was experiencing at that moment.

The red-haired woman could not stop moaning, a layer of sweat covering her body while the stench of sex filled the room Aemon had claimed as his own in Castle Black, while the rhythmic and primal sound of skin slapping against skin made the dragon within Aemon roar triumphantly, hypnotized by watching Ygritte’s ass swallow his entire cock, shuddering with every thrust, only to release the most guttural and needy moan Aemon had ever heard.

She was a wild woman, but in the sheets, she was just his northern little bitch, she knew it...

And she love it.

“OH Aemon!!! YES!! MORE! MOOORE!! FILL ME WITH YOUR SEED!! BREED YOUR WHORE!” Ygritte screamed deliriously, her face pressed against the bed, a stupid smile on her face and her eyes completely unfocused, while Aemon kept her ass in the air, continuing his beastly thrusts without hesitation.

Claiming every inch of her body, to her obvious delight.

The young dragon snorted in amusement, preparing for the grand finale. He had much to do before officially taking control of the castle, so he would have to make this pleasurable evening shorter than usual.

She would compensate his little redhead whore in the future.

It was time to send Ygritte to sleep, and to do so, Aemon would use the best lullaby he knew.

His cock.

“I can feel that you are exhausted, my northern little bitch. Let us finish this,” Aemon whispered as he grabbed Ygritte’s hair in his fist, lifting the redhead’s head and giving Aemon a view he was becoming addicted to.

Ygritte returned his gaze with eyes drowned in lust. She was panting and sighing with desire, moving her hips backward, wanting to feel Aemon’s cock as deeply inside her body as possible.

“Fuck me! I am yours and you are mine! GODS!” she moaned helplessly, her eyes rolled back, her body trembling and her beautiful, large breasts moving to the rhythm of Aemon’s thrusts.

The young dragon looked at the pathetic state of the redhead with dominance and pleasure, preparing to attack that spot inside Ygritte that would drove his northern lover mad, one that Aemon had learned to assault thanks to Fleur’s erotic and extensive lessons.

He had much to do, so he would have to attend to Ygritte’s needs more quickly than usual.

The young dragon grabbed the redhead’s hips, lifting her ass until Ygritte reached the perfect angle and, without hesitation, thrust again, but this time slowly and deeply, making sure Ygritte felt Aemon’s virility scraping against her wet and tight interior.

The reaction was instantaneous. Ygritte’s eyes flew open, allowing Aemon to observe those sky-blue orbs widening in surprise as her pupils dilated while Aemon’s cock caressed Ygritte’s sensitive and tamed interior.

The redhead opened her mouth in a muffled moan, which transformed into a cry of absolute surprise the moment the young dragon reached his destination, when Aemon’s virility scraped that exact spot inside her that he knew would drive his wild little whore insane.

And Ygritte did not disappoint.

“OH GODS, AEMON!! THERE! RIGHT THERE!! MORE!” the redhead roared helplessly, her face filled with absolute bliss as the young dragon continued his slow and deep thrusts, making Ygritte’s body tremble like a little fawn.

And although Aemon would normally make her see stars with slow thrusts to create a progressive crescendo, he was far too aroused to think about that, so in the new angle, the young dragon took possession of his redhead fuck toy, claiming her with ferocity and dominance, to Ygritte’s obvious pleasure and desire.

“AHHHHHHG!!! YES!!!” she screamed helplessly, her eyes trembling, a stupid smile on her face and her body shuddering with pleasure, foreshadowing what was coming.

Aemon roared loudly, spanking Ygritte’s ass with a heavy slap, making her beautiful and large backside tremble from the force of the impact, while the dragon increased the speed of his thrusts.

And then, when Aemon felt Ygritte’s pussy beginning to convulse, when the heat surrounding his cock became an oven and her cunt began to seep her love juice from the corner of his member… Aemon prepared for the grand finale.

“Finish for me,” he ordered, channeling his magic through the tip of his cock, sending a magical discharge directly into Ygritte’s magical button, as his flower had called it, which quickly spread throughout the redhead’s femininity.

The result?

“AHHHHHHHHHG—”

Ygritte screamed like she never had before, her body beginning to move completely out of control as the most powerful orgasm of her life invaded her body with the speed of a lightning bolt, so powerful that the redhead’s thighs began trembling uncontrollably. The redhead tried to pull herself upright, but Aemon’s superior strength kept her in her initial position, head down and ass up.

Completely surrendered to her man’s desires.

Aemon roared, releasing his seed inside Ygritte, who clenched her pussy tightly, milking every last drop and beginning to babble uncontrollably, far too overwhelmed by the pleasure she felt to say anything about it.

Within seconds, Ygritte stopped moving, far too exhausted to do anything in particular, simply allowing herself to be conquered, moaning with pleasure as she felt Aemon’s scorching seed inside her.

“Ohhhh,” the redhead moaned, her eyes slowly closing, undoubtedly exhausted after such a… vigorous session.

Aemon sighed in pleasure, now much more relaxed and calm, and slowly pulled his soaked cock out of the northern woman he had conquered, watching with pleasure as Ygritte’s delicate pussy was left completely ravaged and conquered after such a vigorous session of lovemaking.

The redhead’s body was drenched in sweat, trembling with lingering spasms from the orgasm, while her beautiful eyes struggled unsuccessfully to remain open.

“I… Ahhhg,” Ygritte tried to say, only for exhaustion to defeat her and leave her completely asleep beneath Aemon’s sheets, much to the obvious pleasure of the young dragon, who took a moment to observe the exquisite sight of one of his women conquered and freshly fucked, her cunt split open and his seed leaking from her insides...

She was his, to do as he pleases...the feeling was...intoxicating.

There was something… almost mystical about the image, to be honest, the image of a woman freshly fucked, with a man’s seed running down between her legs, completely conquered and owned.

The dragon within Aemon roared at such a succulent sight. He simply could not help himself.

Alas, although he wished to remain in this place, he had much to do, such as finally confronting the Lord Commander.

He had to make it clear to the old bear that things would change around here quite soon, so calmly, Aemon took his wand, cleaning himself with a simple gesture, and with another, his clothes appeared smoothly over his body, a simple but extremely useful spell.

Aemon headed toward the door of his room, giving Ygritte’s naked body one last look before stepping into the corridor and locking the door behind him, leaving the redhead asleep.

Like a faithful shadow, Chiara was waiting outside, looking at him with amusement and evident envy on her face. Her blue eyes betrayed amusement, but also a great desire to have taken Ygritte’s place.

“Your Grace,” she whispered while biting her lip, undoubtedly horny after hearing the vigorous session with Ygritte.

“It is time, Chiara,” Aemon said solemnly, making the blonde Lycant open her eyes in surprise before her face filled with determination and she nodded firmly.

“To the Lord Commander’s office, then.”

And with those words, both began making their way toward the old Bear’s office, fully aware that the conversation they were about to have would be… quite complicated.

Tyrion Lannister and company had left the Wall that morning, so the Wall was entirely at Aemon’s disposal, and he had already begun preparations for the… changing of the Guard.

Aemon glanced at his faithful shadow, Chiara, one of his numerous women, as powerful and loyal as she was lethal and compliant. The young dragon still remembered when another of his Lycants questioned Chiara’s ability to protect him.

Aemon still trembled at the memory of the beating the Lycant had given the insolent little pup, as Chiara referred to the young Eunise, but that was another story. For now, Aemon wanted to hear Chiara’s opinion on what was going to happen from this point onward.

—I find your words curious, Chiara. We have had enough time for you to form an opinion about the Night’s Watch. What do you think of them? —Aemon asked, without even bothering to look back, maintaining his pace as they headed toward Jeor Mormont’s office.

The king and his guardian advanced through the corridors of Castle Black with firm steps, heading toward the old bear’s office. It was nighttime, so the castle was quite calm. They encountered practically no one along the way, although, to be fair, it was quite likely that they were avoiding him.

Aemon had made no friends in this place, and being honest, he had barely managed to control himself whenever he witnessed the… irregularities taking place here.

Chiara, Lady Commander of the Royal Guard, remained silent for several seconds.

She did not want to answer impulsively.

Finally, she spoke.

“It is complicated, Your Grace,” the blonde said without hesitation in her voice, completely unimpressed with the Guard in general, and although Aemon could understand her perfectly, he wanted to know her opinion in greater depth.

“Most of these people are criminals and murderers. Some are men who had nowhere else to go. Others are simply incompetent. And yet…”

Kiara paused briefly.

“I find myself reluctant to execute them all.”

Those words genuinely surprised the young dragon. His pup and lover was… quite vocal when it came to criminals, possessing an especially sadistic streak when dealing with some of them. For her to be willing to try to save as many Brothers of the Watch as possible was… curious, to say the least.

From what he had seen, Aemon was tempted to simply send the murderers and rapists beyond the Wall without provisions, but he was interested in Chiara’s words.

“What do you suggest?”

Kiara’s answer came without delay. There was no hesitation, only determination in her gaze and her words.

“Dismantle the Order. It is inefficient, filled with useless and incompetent men. Salvage whatever is possible and forge something entirely new,” the woman said at the same time as they both reached the Lord Commander’s door.

And judging by what he could hear, Uncle Aemon had already told the Old Bear about his intentions.

“Good. It is time,” Aemon said, making a gesture with his hand and using his magic to open the office door, finding Lord Commander Mormont accompanied by his uncle Benjen, both with furrowed brows and stern expressions.

On the other side was Maester Aemon, being assisted by Viserys, who remained calm but alert.

“My Lords, Maester, Uncle,” Aemon said elegantly before entering the room without waiting for an invitation.

Viserys snorted at the obvious tactic. His uncle Benjen raised both eyebrows in surprise before smiling softly, while the old bear fixed his eyes firmly and disapprovingly on Aemon.

“Ah, it is you,” Jeor Mormont said, leaning back in his chair and directing his disapproving gaze toward Aemon, who returned the gesture with indifference.

The young Dragon had seen not one but two basilisks. He had fought Albus Dumbledore and the bastard prince in person, so the glare of a grumpy old man was no problem for Aemon.

“It is me,” he said with amusement, shaking his head and smiling at his uncle Benjen.

“Uncle, it is good to see you,” the young dragon said softly, making his mother’s brother smile gently beneath his thick beard, his eyes filled with warmth.

“Nephew, it is good to see you, although I must admit I am surprised to find you in such a remote place. I would ask if you were planning to join the Watch, but the presence of young Ygritte is answer enough,” Benjen said with that somewhat teasing smile, making Viserys snort incredulously, stifling a laugh.

“Oh, of course. Considering how lustful he is, it is more likely for Neve to be in Dorne,” he said incredulously, drawing laughter from Maester Aemon and an indignant reaction from the young King.

Alas, apparently, the Old Bear was not in the mood for jokes, Aemon thought with amusement.

“Why are you here, boy? You are young, a great warrior, you possess wealth and men under your command. You could be anywhere in Westeros or Essos, and yet… you chose to come here. Why?” the old Mormont asked, making Aemon give the Lord Commander his full attention.

This was the moment of truth, and although he did not truly have Mormont or the Watch, it would be Aemon’s first decree in Westeros. The moment he opened his mouth, Jon Snow, the illusion of the bastard of Winterfell, would disappear forever.

And Aemon, the White Dragon, would emerge.

And to be honest with himself, there were few things in his life he had been as certain about as he was about the following conversation.

“I came because I have business beyond the Wall, as well as to gather the rest of my family and prepare for the war approaching on the horizon,” he said calmly, his gaze wandering toward the window for an instant, leaving both the Lord Commander and his uncle Benjen stunned.

As he expected, Aemon watched with amusement as his uncle Benjen stepped forward and responded.

“Jon… your words flatter me, but my duty is to the Watch and…”

However, Aemon interrupted his uncle’s words firmly and gently.

That was the culmination of the conversation, the point where Jon Snow would die forever…

And Aemon Targaryen would emerge.

“From this moment onward, the Night’s Watch, as an independent institution, is completely dissolved.”

The young dragon had said it with absolute calm. To be honest, the dismissal of a decaying order of criminals and rapists was… insignificant to him. Aemon was accustomed to truly important decisions. He had no need to raise his voice or resort to threats. He remained seated before the men of the Watch, with a serene expression and the calm bearing of someone who had already made a decision and had no intention of backing down.

He was the one who held the power, after all, and every man present in that room knew it perfectly well.

The Lord Commander and the First Ranger exchanged a look of absolute bewilderment. To Aemon, both men demonstrated themselves to be quite ignorant regarding the political situation they had just been confronted with.

Jeor Mormont opened his mouth, only to close it a moment later, having absolutely nothing to say.

He opened it again, but no words came from his lips, too stunned by Aemon’s “audacity” to say anything about it, at least for the moment.

Benjen, for his part, continued paying close attention, his eyes widening at what his nephew had said. He watched him with growing curiosity, trying to understand what lay behind such absolute confidence.

Although, to the young King’s surprise, neither of them exploded in the way he had expected. There was no outrage, no threats, nor anything of the sort, only calculating looks, both men measuring the… truthfulness of Aemon’s words.

After all, the young man standing before them had just announced his firm intention to subjugate one of the oldest institutions in Westeros and place it directly under his control.

However, to his surprise, that explosion never came. Several seconds passed, the tension more than evident on the faces of the pair of men belonging to the decaying Order.

Until, finally, Jeor Mormont frowned while slowly rising to his feet, although Aemon did not know whether it was because of his age or a failed intimidation tactic.

In the end, it did not really matter.

“Your words are dangerous, young man,” he said gravely. “By what right do you dare make such a claim?”

And at those words, Aemon simply smiled.

“With the only right that truly matters: Power,” Aemon said solemnly, his cold eyes focusing directly on Mormont’s old gaze, without showing a single trace of sympathy or hesitation.

After all… why would he? He controlled the resources. His soldiers outnumbered the pathetic crows of the Watch five to one, so no matter how much Jeor disliked it, the change of administration was going to happen.

And judging by the old man’s expression, he understood that perfectly.

Oh, it was obvious that he hated the young Targaryen’s words and actions, but it was not as though he could do anything about it. Being honest, with the threat of the White Walkers beyond the Wall, Aemon’s priority as monarch was to secure the borders.

Not the pride of an old warrior.

However, Aemon was far from stupid. He needed to make his claim clear, to reaffirm that his actions here were not the whim of a bastard with power, but the actions of a legitimate ruler.

The Legitimate King.

His eyes remained fixed on his uncle, Benjen Stark, who returned his gaze with interest and caution, making Aemon inhale deeply before responding.

“I am not Jon Snow. In fact… Jon Snow never existed. It was all an invention of my Uncle, Lord Eddard Stark, the newly appointed Prince of Winterfell and Lord of the North.”

The words hung suspended in the air.

Benjen’s eyes widened, unable to respond immediately. For several moments, he simply stared at his nephew, trying to comprehend the meaning of that statement.

Aemon did not look away. He would not flee from destiny. The situation on the continent was tense, and he needed to be precise and efficient to succeed, so slowly, he raised his right hand, displaying the two magical rings on his fingers.

Without blinking, Aemon snapped his fingers, releasing a powerful sound that shook the entire room. The flames of the torches and fireplace changed from their characteristic orange to an intense and voracious red, while between Aemon’s fingers, an elegant and beautiful object was being conjured.

It was small, but of unparalleled elegance: a long white stem, with thorns as black as night, with beautiful sky-blue petals that seemed to glow with a faint light of their own.

A… Winter Rose, a flower native to the North, and one directly associated with his mother, Lady Lyanna.

Benjen and Jeor watched the act with different reactions: astonishment and stupefaction from the Old Bear, and realization and surprise from Benjen, who seemed to be seeing Aemon for the first time.

“Lya… how… how did I not see it before?” his uncle whispered, completely stunned, while Viserys and Maester Aemon stood up, both positioning themselves on either side of Aemon, instantly displaying their support and loyalty.

“Who… Who are you?” the Old Bear asked. There was a certain reproach in his voice, but curiosity was what dominated it, so Aemon focused his heavy and dominant gaze on the old bear and answered.

“My name… is Aemon I, of House Targaryen, of the Blood of Old Valyria, Champion of the Old Gods, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Legitimate King of the Iron Throne.”

As soon as Aemon finished speaking, both men could not stop trembling, although he was certain it was for different reasons, so Aemon merely leaned toward the table, his gaze fixed on the Old Bear, and continued.

“And as I said before, the Night’s Watch is officially dismantled. We will take what little is useful from your men, and I will turn it into something useful for the Realm. You may continue serving as one of my captains, or you may return to Bear Island. Either way, your service as Lord Commander has come to an end, my Lord,” Aemon said with finality, while, with a movement of his hand, he conjured three elegant and comfortable chairs, far more luxurious than Jeor’s own seat.

As he sat down, Aemon focused his gaze on the stunned man, who could only stare at Aemon, opening and closing his mouth.

“What is your decision, my Lord? Time is running… and the offer will not remain open for long,” Aemon said, now without any façade. The Dragon had shed the Wolf’s skin.

And the campaign in Westeros had begun.